Chapter 86: Corpse Revival |
Bai Mu wasted no time, heading down to the basement with Stephen.
The moment they entered the underground level, a damp, earthy stench hit them. The descending concrete steps were covered in water stains and slick with moss, making them dangerously slippery.
Bai Mu brushed his hand against the peeling wall. There were bulging air blisters beneath the paint, and with a gentle touch, a shower of powdery dust flaked off.
The severe corrosion of the walls proved that this area was submerged in water year-round.
Walking in front, he turned on his Camcorder's night-vision mode. While the first floor still had some faint illumination, the basement was pitch black. Without night vision, they would be completely blind.
Stephen followed closely behind him, gripping a small combat knife, ready to provide backup at a moment's notice.
After walking for about half a minute, they reached a flooded area. The water was not deep, only reaching their ankles, but it was bone-chillingly cold.
It felt like freshly pumped groundwater, complete with tiny grains of sand washing over their boots.
"So cold," Stephen shivered.
Besides the Power Room, the area was cluttered with a chaotic mess of miscellaneous junk. A foul stench of moldy food lingered in the air, mingled with the sharp scent of gasoline.
After looking around and seeing no one, Bai Mu spotted the sign for the Power Room. He strode over, only to find that the rusted iron door was locked from the inside.
"Damn it, don't tell me that religious nutjob got away," Stephen grumbled in frustration after vainly pushing against the door. "Should we head back up to the Surveillance Room? Maybe there's a key left behind by the guards."
"Don't panic, Stephen. Help me shine a light with the Camcorder first." Bai Mu handed over the device and pulled a multi-tool combat knife from his pocket, a piece of gear he had looted off the dead soldiers earlier.
Stephen took the Camcorder and professionally flicked on its built-in flashlight.
"Bai, you aren't thinking of picking the lock, are you?"
Stephen stared at the heavy iron padlock. Although the door was rusted, the lock itself remained sturdy and intact. This Power Room was one of the few relatively newly constructed structures on the basement level.
"This is a maximum-security Power Room. Murkoff started out in manufacturing, and their locks are top-tier on the market. I think you shouldn't waste your..."
Before Stephen could finish his sentence, Bai Mu pressed down on the door handle and twisted the knife. With a sharp click, the lock sprang open. The iron door creaked ajar, allowing a gust of frigid wind to blow through the narrow gap.
"Looks empty inside. Let's go. We'll head in first and see if we can restore the power and lighting." Bai Mu retrieved the Camcorder and hung it around his neck.
Stephen scratched his head, swallowing the rest of his words.
"Bai, where did you learn a trick like that?"
"You know how it is, Stephen. A Reporter has to learn to handle all sorts of situations," Bai Mu replied. "For instance, sometimes when you want to secretly film the kitchens of shady restaurants, you have to use some special methods."
Stephen sighed in admiration, "I suddenly feel like I still have a lot to learn when it comes to being a Reporter."
Bai Mu pushed the door open to a grating screech of rusted hinges. The Power Room was indeed empty. He quickly spotted the main switch for the breaker; the heavy lever had been pulled down to the OFF position.
Though there was no one alive, a corpse lay right next to the lever.
It was a fresh body, still seemingly warm.
Opposite the lever was a collapsed wall with red bricks scattered all over the floor. The wall and the ground caved inward, leading down into what appeared to be the sewer system of Mount Massive Asylum. It seemed the priest had pulled the plug on the power and then escaped through the sewers.
Bai Mu walked over and yanked the main breaker switch upward. After a few crackles of electricity, the overhead lights flickered to life.
A single incandescent bulb illuminated the cramped space, finally allowing him to get a clear look at the corpse.
It was the body of an Asylum Inmate, dressed somewhat similarly to Chris Wolf, bare-chested with a pair of gray trousers on the lower half.
He lay flat on his back. His face and skin were severely burned, old injuries that had already scarred over, leaving him looking incredibly hideous and terrifying.
The corpse clutched a kitchen knife in its right hand, while its left was empty. Next to its neck lay a discarded syringe, the plunger pushed all the way down. A distinct puncture mark was visible on the corpse's jugular vein.
Aside from that needle mark, there were no other obvious fresh wounds on his body.
He had no breath and no heartbeat, and his eyes were wide open in a death stare. Judging by the dilation of his pupils, his time of death was only a few minutes ago, likely right around the moment the power was cut.
"Lethal injection, maybe?" Stephen asked, thoroughly confused. "But what was the point of that old religious nut leaving a corpse behind?"
"If it were just a regular corpse, it really wouldn't be of any use."
Bai Mu narrowed his eyes and drew his Baseball Bat.
The motionless corpse suddenly began to convulse. Its movements were utterly bizarre and contorted, defying the physical limits of a normal human. It was as if invisible strings were tugging at its joints, hoisting it up onto its feet like a marionette.
"The corpse is moving!" Stephen exclaimed in horror.
"Get down, Stephen!" Bai Mu roared.
Stephen grabbed his head and ducked just as a Baseball Bat swung over him from behind, violently smashing into the corpse's skull.
The walking corpse stumbled backward. This man's physical durability was nowhere near that of Chris Wolf. With a single strike, Bai Mu caved in the creature's nose and face, reducing its eyeballs to bloody pulp.
Yet, this did not kill him. He was already dead to begin with. The thing keeping him in motion was not the pulling of muscles and tendons, but another, invisible force.
Bai Mu raised his Camcorder to observe. Sure enough, across the surface of the corpse's skin, he spotted faint traces of swirling black mist. It was identical to the dark energy lingering outside the asylum, though in much smaller quantities.
Bai Mu tried targeting the corpse's joints. Gripping his bat with both hands, he viciously hammered at its elbows and knees.
The crisp crunch of shattering bone echoed through the room as fresh blood poured out. He hadn't been dead for long, so the blood was still warm. Because Bai Mu hadn't held back in the slightest, the creature's bones completely splintered, with shards of bone jutting out from the torn flesh.
However, this did nothing to impede its movements. Like a puppet on strings, the mangled corpse stood upright, raised its kitchen knife, and chopped down at Bai Mu.
Bai Mu narrowly dodged the strike, allowing the cleaver to hack into a nearby water pipe. The entity possessed monstrous strength, effortlessly slicing clean through the thick steel pipe.
If he had taken that blow head-on, Bai Mu wasn't entirely sure he could have withstood it.
"I'll help you, Bai!"
Stephen grabbed a crowbar from out of nowhere and viciously struck the corpse's back. But it was completely futile; his physical strength paled in comparison to Bai Mu's.
"Get back, Stephen! You can't kill it like that!" Bai Mu seized Stephen by the collar and yanked him away.
That exceptionally sturdy kitchen knife nearly cleaved Stephen's head open. The flashing blade left Stephen drenched in cold sweat, though with his bulletproof helmet, a single strike probably wouldn't have killed him anyway.
After these brief exchanges, Bai Mu realized that conventional tactics were entirely useless against this monster.
What sustained its movements was a supernatural force. Let alone smashing its bones, even if he sliced the corpse right down the middle, its severed halves would likely piece themselves back together.
To completely eradicate it, he would need to deploy high-yield weapons like a Hand Grenade or a Cherry Bomb, or summon the Witch and a Charger to grind it into dust.
Yet, obliterating its physical vessel might not be the right answer either. Whatever was possessing the corpse could easily burst out, and then Bai Mu might have to face a literal, incorporeal ghost.
An invisible, intangible phantom boasting unfathomable strength.
'Finally ramping up the difficulty, huh,' Bai Mu thought to himself.
This was entirely within his expectations. It would be bizarre if a D-rank Script didn't challenge him.
He knew he would encounter supernatural elements sooner or later. Otherwise, if his only adversaries were brutes like that massive giant, this Script would be an E-rank at best, never qualifying for D-rank.
"Bai! Run!" Stephen yelled frantically. "This freak is totally out of our league! We need an Eastern exorcist... wait, no, a Taoist priest to deal with this!"
Bai Mu remained unfazed. "Get out the door, Stephen! Lure him out!"
He had already deduced the entity's weakness. The creature moved erratically; a normal person would likely panic and have no idea how to handle it upon first contact.
But as an experienced doomsday survivor, he had seen every type of Mutant imaginable.
For example, creatures that evolved to be entirely gelatinous, harboring incredibly few weak points and practically immune to bullets. Even without explosive weaponry on hand, neutralizing such horrors wasn't actually that difficult.
Bai Mu and Stephen sprinted out the door together, with the undead creature in hot pursuit. The now-powered basement was brightly lit, the flowing water washing over the corpse's bare feet, sweeping away its blood along with sandy debris.
The monster lunged toward Stephen, seemingly holding a grudge after Stephen's previous attack drew its aggro.
Without missing a beat, Bai Mu whipped out two small combat knives from his pocket and hurled them at the corpse's face.
Both blades sank deep into the entity's eye sockets one after another. It twisted its head toward Bai Mu, instantly shifting its target.
"Bai!" Stephen shouted anxiously.
"Stephen, I can handle this! Stand right there and don't move!" Bai Mu commanded.
Though his face was etched with panic, Stephen chose to trust Bai Mu and refrained from acting recklessly.
The monstrosity moved with blinding speed. As it chased after Bai Mu, its waist contorted into an inhuman posture, scuttling low to the ground like a giant spider.
Bai Mu lured it toward the stairs. At the same time, with a flick of his wrist, he retrieved a small jerrycan of gasoline from his inventory.
Furthermore, he maintained a steady, dance-like footwork, slowly maneuvering around the walking corpse. With his agility boosted by two points, the creature slashed wildly, but not a single strike landed on Bai Mu. Instead, the walls and stair railings were left riddled with deep gouges.
It felt like a macabre stage play. Bai Mu pirouetted around the twisted abomination with a strange, eerie elegance.
Stephen stared at the steps with profound worry. Bai Mu had already baited the monster to the corner landing, and Stephen had absolutely no idea what he was plotting.
It wasn't until the abomination suddenly slipped on the stairs and wiped out hard that realization dawned on him.
He watched as Bai Mu unscrewed the jerrycan and poured gasoline down the steps. The translucent fuel soaked the concrete stairs, cascading downward under the pull of gravity.
The grotesquely writhing monster was now drenched in fuel. The slippery combination of gasoline and damp concrete caused it to crash onto the flat landing at the corner. It violently thrashed about, desperately trying to stand back up, but it resembled a turtle flipped on its back, helplessly flailing with zero traction.
The scene was utterly comical. The monster would brace its four limbs against the ground, only to instantly slip and fall. Brace, slip, fall, it endlessly repeated this cycle, completely unable to comprehend the predicament it was in.
Stephen watched in dumbfounded awe. With just that single, simple trick, this terrifying monstrosity had been reduced to a laughable clown.
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